Another Strand of Tinsel
by Phoenix Sparrow
Summary: After a mishap on a Christmas Eve rescue, Scott and Virgil face the dilemma of who takes on the rounds. This is the fourth story in my "Of Tinsel and Traditions" series, which it will help to have read first. Also, this was written last year and saved for this year.


How could the rescue have gone so wrong? It should have been relatively simple, just as many others had been before. Scott was to rappel down, load the stranded workers into the chair winch, then Virgil would remove them to the nearest hospital. Simple.

"How are you both doing, Virgil?" John asked. Mission over, most of his focus was on remote piloting Thunderbird One back to Tracy Island, though naturally he still held concern for his brothers.

" _I'm not gonna lie, I'll be glad to get back to base,_ " Virgil retorted, his tone tense, almost strained.

"You're not far out now, Virgil," John assured him. "How's Scott doing?"

" _He's in a lot of pain,_ " Virgil answered. " _I had to give him a pretty strong painkiller._ "

John frowned in concern, seeing his brother grimace. "Have you taken anything?"

" _I need to be able to concentrate on getting us home. You can't remote pilot both the 'Birds._ "

"You being in pain isn't going to help with that," John countered.

" _Yeah, well, like you said, almost home. Are the guys on standby in the infirmary?_ "

"All ready and waiting for you. _Both_ of you, that is," John added, knowing what Virgil could be like.

" _Scott's the priority here._ "

"No, you're both the priority, Virgil. The sensors in your suit suggest you've probably fractured several ribs."

" _Damn that sudden gust,_ " he muttered.

Yeah. A simple mission. High winds made the whole operation incredibly difficult and despite the frequent scans of the platform John had performed, he wasn't able to warn Scott about the warping of the support arm in time. Before he could say anything, it had twisted and buckled, the metal snapping suddenly under the strain and Scott had fallen. Even his quick reflexes with his grapple hadn't been enough and he'd landed hard several metres below, resulting in a serious leg fracture.

The rescued workers safely inside Thunderbird Two, Virgil had then descended to retrieve Scott when it became clear that his fall had incapacitated him, though in the process, a gust topping fifty miles an hour had thrown him into the side of the structure, slamming him chest first against metal supports. He'd managed, with great difficulty through his own pain, to splint Scott's leg and clip him into his harness, winching the both of them back into the waiting Thunderbird. He'd dropped off the workers at the hospital and was well into the journey home before John had finally managed to get him to open up and admit he'd been injured as well.

John pursed his lips. "Just be careful, Virgil," he said.

" _I know, John, I know._ "

" _John?_ "

John frowned. "Scott? What are you doing on the comm?"

" _Was listening,_ " he muttered. Even in so few words, John could hear a slight slur, indicating the medication might be affecting him. " _How long 'til time for me to go out?_ "

John blinked in surprise, staring at the hologram. "You… Scott, you're going nowhere tonight."

" _Is Christmas Eve,_ " he countered, his eyes drooping as he seemed to be having difficulty keeping them open. " _I gotta go._ "

"I don't think so, Scott," John said, his focus split slightly as he concentrated on remotely landing Thunderbird One. "You've broken your leg. You're going nowhere but the infirmary."

" _Magic will help,_ " he said. " _Like when I was sick._ "

John shook his head. "Scott, you can't seriously be considering this. Your magic was masking a fever, that's a bit different to aiding you to walk on what is probably a fractured tibia."

" _I can do it,_ " he insisted slowly.

John sighed. "Scott, you can barely talk," he reminded him. "You're not physically capable of going out tonight."

" _Anyway, Scott, it was my turn to go out,_ " Virgil pointed out, causing John to roll his eyes.

"Yes, it was, and no, you can't go either," he said.

" _It's only a couple of broken ribs, and I don't think they're seriously broken,_ " Virgil stated.

John pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're both as bad as each other," he muttered. "Think rationally, Virgil. You haven't been X-rayed so you have no real idea just how serious the breaks are, you don't even know how many ribs you've broken."

" _I'll just dose up on painkillers,_ " he retorted. " _One of us has to go, we can't let the kids down._ "

"I know, Virgil, but you know as well as I do that it can't be either of you. If those ribs are broken worse than you think, you could do further damage like puncturing a lung or your heart. I won't take that risk."

" _What we gonna do?_ " Scott asked, before screwing his eyes shut, grimacing in pain.

"I could go," John said, then seemed to realise what he'd just said, his eyes widening at the prospect.

" _You?_ " Virgil replied, before frowning in thought. " _I guess that would work. You certainly know what you're doing._ "

"I wouldn't be so sure," he muttered, then shook his head. "But you're right. We can't let the kids down. Virgil, do you need help landing Two?"

The pilot looked down at his controls as if only just realising he was on final approach. " _Uh… I think… I think I'll be alright,_ " he said, then tensed, sucking in a deep breath as he closed his eyes.

"Virgil, if the pain is getting worse, you've got to let me take over."

" _But aren't you still piloting One?_ " he asked, his eyes watering slightly as he opened them again.

"One is already back in her hangar," John assured him. "Now, do you need me to take over? You look like you're struggling."

" _I…_ " He hated to admit it, but he had Scott on board to consider. The last thing he wanted to do was to lose focus during the landing procedure and jolt him around. He was in enough pain already. He grimaced again and lowered his head, nodding. " _You're right,_ " he murmured, sighing in defeat. " _I… I can't._ "

John smiled sympathetically. "No one thinks any less of you, Virgil. Just let me handle things. Grandma and Brains are ready to help you guys to the infirmary as soon as you disembark."

Virgil nodded again and sat back in his seat as he let John take over.

* * *

John stepped out of the space elevator, glancing around briefly before he made his way to the infirmary.

Upon arrival, he stopped in the doorway, seeing Brains tending to Virgil. He was sat up in one of the beds, a stack of cushions behind him and the top half of his uniform removed, revealing widespread bruising over most of his chest.

Scott lay in the bed beside him, his eyes closed and his leg in a temporary cast already.

John sighed, heading inside.

Virgil rolled his head round, hearing him approach. "Hey, John," he whispered tiredly.

"Virgil, you don't look so good," John stated, sitting down beside him.

"Feel awful," he muttered. "Turns out I broke three and the rest are bruised." He grimaced, holding his breath as the pain level spiked.

"T-try to breathe normally, Virgil," Brains reminded him, watching him as he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

John put his hand gently on his shoulder. "You need to look after yourself, Virgil."

He nodded, swallowing hard.

"John?"

He turned to see Scott looking at him. "Hi, Scott," he said softly, going over to him. "How are you doing?"

"I'm doing… I'm doing…" He frowned in confusion. "I don't know. Am I doing?"

John raised an eyebrow and glanced at Brains who'd walked over to see to his patient. "He was still in quite a l-lot of pain so I, uh, I had to give him some different painkillers. He's, uh, n-not quite with it."

He pulled at the collar of the shirt he was wearing. Clearly someone, at some point, had changed him out of his uniform and into a t-shirt and sweats, the baggy leg of one rolled over the broken limb. "I'm doing in a shirt," he offered.

"So you are," John said, patting his shoulder.

"You're doing in your uniform," Scott observed, reaching out to pull at his sash. "Why you in uniform?"

"I've only just gotten back from Five, Scott," John replied.

"Why you not there now? Gotta go out. Is Santa time."

John chuckled softly. "Not for you, it's not, Scotty boy."

Scott frowned, yawning and tilting his head to look above him, smiling. "Look, it's Eos, hey Eos," he said cheerfully, directing his gaze to the light illuminating his bed.

John pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. "Okay…" he said slowly. He stood up, leaving Scott having a slightly slurred conversation with the light, sounding utterly convinced that he was engaging with the AI.

He returned to Virgil's side and sat down again. "Well, that was interesting,"

"He was a bit like that before he fell asleep earlier," Virgil explained, shifting a little in an attempt to find a more comfortable position.

John leaned forward, aiding him. "Can I get you anything?" he asked.

Virgil shook his head. "No, I'm alright. You have to get going though."

John sighed, nodding. "I know. It's been at the forefront of my mind, like how you both instinctively know what you need to do, I know precisely where you need to be and when."

"Alright. I guess I should, uh, pass on the magic then. Scott's clearly in no state to do it."

They both looked round at the older man, still chatting away cheerfully to the light, his hands waving as he spoke before they looked back at each other.

"It would help," John agreed. "I might have some ability, but I don't have Santa's magic."

Virgil nodded and closed his eyes.

John shuddered a little, feeling the magic fill every part of him, a smile forming on his lips.

"John? You alright?"

Opening his eyes, John nodded again. "Mmm hmm. It's a curious sensation, isn't it?"

Virgil smiled, his eyes beginning to drift. "Remember thinking that," he whispered.

"Sleep, Virgil," John said, a hand coming to rest over his. "It'll help you."

He nodded. "Safe journey, Santa," he murmured, dozing off.

John smiled briefly then looked round at Brains. "Take care of them for me," he said.

"You know I will," Brains replied. "Go on, off you go."

* * *

John made his way through the corridor from the infirmary towards the living room. He knew he'd have to take Thunderbird One out and although he knew exactly how to fly it, it wasn't very often he'd been out in the craft.

The house was quiet, everyone else either in bed or the sickroom so John had some time to himself as he walked, savouring the silence.

" _John?_ "

Having not expected to hear anything from his personal comm, John jumped at the sudden intrusion into his solitude. "Eos? You made me jump!"

" _How did I do that? You're currently on Earth while I still reside in the systems here on Thunderbird Five._ "

"Not physically jump, I meant you startled me," he clarified. "What do you need?"

" _When are you leaving?_ "

"To return to Thunderbird Five?" he asked.

" _No, you mentioned going out in Scott and Virgil's stead, I thought I might be able to assist you._ "

"Assist me?" He stopped in front of Scott's hidden entrance. "In what way?"

" _Well, I wondered if you might need the sort of assistance you provide your brothers with when they go out on their rounds._ "

John smiled softly. "You want to take on my role while I take on theirs?"

" _If I can help you, I'd like to, John,_ " she said.

"You know what to do, I suppose," John agreed. "You've observed and assisted me often enough over the years. Alright, thank you."

He smiled again and stepped onto the platform, reaching for the light fittings. Before long, he was riding the elevator down to One's hangar, marvelling at the feeling as the magic transformed him.

At the bottom, he emerged from the tube, looking himself over. He stared at his hands, turning them over in front of him.

" _Are you alright, John?_ " Eos asked.

"I think so," he replied, lowering his hands and looking over his body. "I feel a little strange. This is a curious sensation."

" _I assume it would be,_ " Eos agreed. " _Your brothers reacted slightly differently to you, though. You seem apprehensive._ "

"I suppose they did," John muttered, shifting the belt across his stomach slightly. "I'm barely able to manage in gravity when I'm my normal self, this extra bulk is going to take some getting used to."

" _Your brothers reported the magic assisted them in compensating for their change in shape. Is it not helping you?_ "

He took a breath as he considered. "I'm not certain right now," he admitted. Aware that balance wasn't one of his best attributes, he edged carefully out onto the platform, letting it take him to Thunderbird One's waiting control seat.

He sat down, looking around as he was drawn inside the vehicle.

" _How are you faring, John? Are you ready to launch?_ "

John glanced upward. "I'm alright, Eos," he said. "I'm just… it's a bit overwhelming." He sighed, shaking his head. "I can really appreciate just how difficult Scott finds this at times. This was our father's role. I mean, I understood, but now, taking a turn of my own, I really get what he means."

" _And as you've told Scott in the past, your father would be proud of you. All of you._ "

John smiled. "I hope so, Eos." He sighed again, reaching out to grasp the controls. "Alright, now let's get this show on the road."

* * *

" _John? You have completed approximately fifty-two percent of your journey so far,_ " Eos informed him. " _How are you doing?_ "

"I can say with absolute certainty I now understand why Scott finds it so hard to resist the cookies," he admitted. "I honestly didn't realise just how good cookies can be."

" _You've stopped to eat cookies? Again?_ "

"I can't help it, Eos, they're just so tempting," he said.

" _John, you've had at least one from each of your stops so far, some of them you've had more. Do you not think this could impair you?_ "

"Impair me? I feel fine," he replied, taking another from the plate before focussing his attention on the roof. With a pop, he vanished from the room, reappearing next to Thunderbird One.

" _Perhaps, but I recall you mentioning previously that Scott often ingested many cookies on his rounds and would frequently feel unwell once the magic wore off._ "

"Well, maybe a bit but it was more that he was too full to eat any breakfast in the morning."

" _Indeed, but John, I think you may have had considerably more than Scott usually does and you're not used to so much sugary food._ "

"Stop fussing, Eos," John said, smiling as he climbed up onto the control chair. "It'll be alright. Now, where to next?"

" _You need to head south-west for approximately three minutes to reach the next town._ "

"FAB, Eos," he replied, inputting the course and starting her up.

* * *

" _That was the last stop, John, time to head back to Tracy Island._ "

"Brilliant, thank you, Eos," John replied, settling back into the control chair. He was really beginning to feel tired now. "It's been a long night."

" _Indeed, I believe you've been awake and working for-_ "

"Honestly, Eos? I really don't want to know how long I've been awake for. I'm tired enough already."

" _As you wish, John. Will you be alright to pilot home or do you require remote assistance?_ "

"I should be alright, thank you." He rubbed his eyes before returning his attention to the controls. "Time to go home." Pushing the levers full forward, Thunderbird One shot through the sky, the magic allowing her to travel even faster than her usual top speed.

" _ETA Tracy Island approximately seven point nine minutes._ "

"Good. I'll be glad to go to bed."

" _Do you want me to transfer systems to the island's hub or would you like me to continue monitoring whilst you sleep?_ "

"It's probably best if you monitor, please, Eos? With Scott and Virgil both injured, it'll be down to Kayo, Gordon and Alan to respond to any calls so I want them to be as rested as possible. Let them sleep as long as they need without having to worry about monitor duty."

" _Understood, John._ "

* * *

" _You're on final approach, John, skies are clear for landing._ "

"Wonderful," John retorted, though the word was distorted through a long yawn.

" _I recommend you proceed straight to bed once you land._ "

"I want to check on the guys first," he said.

" _John, you need to sleep. Magic might have helped you through this, but this is completely different to almost anything you do in general._ "

"Almost?" he asked, amused.

" _In the sense that you normally follow your polyphasic sleep pattern and in the time you've currently been awake, generally, rescues notwithstanding, you'd have had several sleep sessions._ "

"Scott or Virgil would have probably had a night's sleep in this time as well, Eos."

" _You're also not used to being within the Earth's gravity for such a prolonged period._ "

John sighed, nodding. "Yes, well, I suppose that is true." He looked through the viewport, watching the island rotate in his view as he switched to vertical mode for landing. "I will go to bed, Eos, but I also want to see how they're both doing. They were severely injured and as such, I want to know they're doing okay."

Eos paused briefly. " _I understand, John. You're incredibly close to your siblings._ "

"We're all really close," he agreed. "So, yes. I'll go and check on them, then go to bed, deal?"

" _Agreed,_ " she said.

John smiled. "Thanks, Eos," he said softly. "For all your help tonight, too."

" _I couldn't very well leave you all alone, could I?_ "

"I appreciate that." As Thunderbird One finally came to a rest on its cradle, John relaxed. He'd done it and it hadn't been as bad as he'd anticipated. He'd even returned with some of the treats that had been left out so Scott and Virgil could have some as well. Maybe even Gordon and Alan too if the elder brothers left them any.

He felt the jolt as the trolley finished its descent back to its underground hangar. Glancing around, he lifted the shoulder restraints before standing up and making his way out.

* * *

The infirmary was quiet. Scott had succumbed to his painkillers several hours ago and was sleeping soundly, his injured leg raised up on some pillows and his head tilted to one side as he snored softly.

Virgil watched him for a moment before returning his attention to the window near his own bed. He was still sat propped up in his bed, his chest aching. Thunderbird One's return had woken him and he realised now he wasn't going to be able to get back to sleep without another painkiller of his own. Screwing his eyes shut briefly, he attempted to sit up a little more, sighing in defeat. The ache was certainly getting worse.

"You look like you need a little help there."

Virgil looked up to see John stood in the doorway. "Hey," he said, his voice weak with fatigue. "You haven't shed the magic yet."

John smiled as he headed in, sitting down beside Virgil's bed. "I wanted to come and check on you two first," he replied. "How are you holding up?"

"Scott had a full-blown conversation with the light for about another half hour before he fell asleep again," Virgil explained.

John chuckled. "Oh dear. Well, the sleep will do him good. When is he going to have his leg set properly?"

"Brains said he'd do it in the morning."

"Fair enough. And what about you?"

He shrugged, but regretted that action instantly as it pulled on his tender ribs, causing him to grunt a little.

John placed a hand on his shoulder. "Still in pain?"

He nodded, his eyes low. "I shouldn't have let that wind sheer catch me off guard like it did."

John tilted his head, crossing his arms. "Really? Virgil, you're not a barometer. You couldn't have predicted the wind would pick up like it did."

"But what do we do now in the event of a rescue?"

"Kayo, Gordon, Alan and I will manage," John replied. "You just need to focus on yourself."

Virgil sighed and nodded again.

John reached out again, patting his shoulder. "I'll get you some painkillers, Virgil," he said softly. "I assume you can have some more now?"

"Yeah."

"Alright." He got up again, his hand raising to his forehead as he did so.

"John?"

"Just a bit tired," he said, waving him off as he approached the medicine cabinet. Gathering what he needed, he returned to Virgil. "Here."

"Thanks," Virgil muttered, accepting the medication and the glass of water when offered.

"I brought something back with me for you both as well," John stated.

"Oh?"

He waved a hand and a box appeared beside him.

"What's this?"

"I saved a few cookies from the rounds if you'd like some," John offered.

Virgil looked up at him and smiled. "So you're a cookies guy, are you?"

"I couldn't help myself," he admitted. "I really appreciate Scott's need to stop for them now."

"Someone say my name?" a quiet voice asked from behind them.

John turned to see Scott waking up, a lethargic smile on his face. "Hey, John."

"Hey, Scott, how are you feeling?"

"Tired and achy," he muttered. "But I heard someone say cookies."

Virgil chuckled then groaned. "Scott, don't make me laugh, it hurts my chest."

"Sorry," he replied, pulling himself upright slowly. "But did I hear it?"

John grinned. "Yes, Scott, you heard mention of cookies. I brought some back with me."

He smiled again. "The cookies are the best, aren't they?"

"Oh yeah," John agreed. "I found it very difficult to stop. I had loads."

"Loads?" Scott asked, reaching out to take one as John offered.

Behind his beard, John blushed slightly, grinning sheepishly. "Like I said, I found it difficult to stop."

"You're gonna feel it when you shed the magic," Scott replied.

"Definitely," Virgil agreed, taking a bite of his chosen cookie and smiling at the taste.

John ran his fingers through his beard, glancing between them both.

Virgil smiled at him again. "Scott does that."

"Does what?"

"Fiddle with his beard."

John looked down. "I hadn't realised I was."

Scott smiled and yawned. "You'll need to drop the magic soon," he advised.

John lowered his hand and nodded. "I suppose I should really." He closed his eyes, focusing. The wave of tiredness that washed over him as the magic left him was almost overwhelming but then he groaned, wrapping his arms round himself.

"John?" Virgil asked, watching him in concern. "Are you alright?"

John shook his head. "I feel terrible," he said.

"You shouldn't be in any pain from dropping your magic," Virgil stated, looking at Scott.

A small smile started to form on Scott's lips again as he watched John sit down on one of the unoccupied beds, his arms still tightly wrapped around his middle. "John's not used to so much sugar. I think he's OD'ed and now the magic is gone he's feeling it."

Virgil looked from Scott back to John who was now lying on his side on the bed, his face pale. "Looks like you might be right." He smiled with compassion. "Don't worry, John. Once you're asleep, the last of your magic will take over and you'll probably feel better when you wake, though you will feel full."

John nodded, groaning again. "Remind me never to take on the rounds again," he muttered, covering his mouth with his hand briefly, before letting out a slow breath.

"Just bear in mind, John, you gotta get yourself to the bathroom if you think you're gonna be sick, neither of us can really help you," Scott reminded.

John looked up at him and nodded, before curling in on himself tightly. "No more cookies," he murmured, slowly falling asleep.

* * *

When Alan woke that morning, he ran downstairs, expecting to see his older brothers all awake already but was surprised to see no one around. He frowned and descended further into the homestead, making his way to the kitchen. Still no one.

He tilted his head, hearing sounds of disturbed water from outside. "At least I know where Gordon is," he said, following the noise.

"Hey, Alan!" Gordon called, leaning on the edge of the pool as he completed a length. "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas, Gordon," he replied, sitting down on the poolside, his feet dangling into the cool water below. "Where is everyone?"

"Dunno," Gordon said. "Haven't seen anyone. But Scott and Virgil both had a callout last night then one of them I'm sure will have gone on the rounds."

"True, but both of them would normally be awake by now," Alan countered.

Gordon hoisted himself out of the water and sat beside him. "Good point. You don't think something happened, do you?"

"That's what I'm worried about," Alan said.

"Hmm," Gordon murmured. He reached out for his towel, drying himself off. "Shall we go investigate?"

Alan nodded. "Yeah." He waited for Gordon to dress before, together, they headed back inside.

* * *

Virgil was just waking up when Alan and Gordon walked into the infirmary. He smiled at them tiredly. "Morning, boys, merry Christmas," he murmured.

"Virgil? What happened to you?" Alan asked, concern on his face as he looked at him, before realising Scott and John were also occupying beds. "You're all in here?"

"Yeah," he replied, grimacing as he tried to sit up. "We had a bit of a mishap on the mission last night."

"You don't look so good, bro," Gordon said, helping him readjust his position before sitting down on the chair between Scott and Virgil's beds.

"Thanks, Gordon," he whispered. "Yeah, broken ribs. I was caught by a wind sheer and hit a metal support."

"Didn't you report that Scott was going down to retrieve the casualties?" Alan asked.

"That was the initial plan and we did but it went a bit wrong after that." He pointed at Scott. "He broke his leg and I had to go get him."

Gordon shook his head. "Clumsy, the pair of you," he said. "But that doesn't explain John. And who went on the rounds last night?"

Virgil raised an eyebrow and looked towards the space monitor.

"He went?" Alan asked.

"Mmm hmm. As much as I hate to admit it, neither of us are in any shape to do anything so John volunteered."

"So, how come he's in here with you guys?" Gordon queried.

"He overindulged."

The two youngest looked round to see Scott beginning to wake. "Merry Christmas boys," he added, smiling at them.

"Merry Christmas, Scott," Alan said. "What did he overindulge in?"

Scott pointed at the box on the table between the beds. "Cookies."

Gordon and Alan looked at the box then over at their still sleeping brother. "He ate too much?"

"Too much sugar," Scott clarified, reaching out for the box and taking a cookie. "When he shed the magic, he ended up with a pretty bad stomach ache."

Gordon started laughing loudly, bending over himself. Alan, despite trying his hardest not to, couldn't help but chuckle a little as well. "How long have we been telling him he needs to eat more than just space food and bagels? No wonder he made himself sick."

Still laughing, Gordon got up, pointing at each of them. "So, we have a broken leg, broken ribs and a tummy ache. Poor John."

Scott shook his head. "Gordon, be nice," he said quietly, though was smiling. "You don't know how hard it is to resist the treats the children leave out. John just wasn't certain how to restrain himself. Goodness knows I understand how he feels."

A groan behind them alerted them to John beginning to wake.

Alan went over to him. "Hey, John, Scott says you're not feeling too good."

John screwed his eyes shut again. "Virgil said I'd feel better when I woke up, I still feel rubbish."

"I said you'll probably feel better. And anyway, you're not as pale as last night. Do you feel a little better than you did?"

"A bit I guess," he muttered, curling up tighter again. "Don't feel quite so sick but I still feel horrible."

"Poor John," Gordon said, grinning and trying not to laugh.

John buried his face into his pillow. "Leave me alone," he murmured.

Gordon chuckled, going back over to Scott. "Can I have one of those?"

Scott nodded. "Don't think John will mind. He brought them back for us."

"There's loads in this box, how many did he have?" Alan asked, looking into the colourful package.

"Way too many," John muttered, his face still buried. "Feel like I should still be Santa shaped."

Gordon laughed again. "Aww, poor John."

"Leave him be," Virgil said, smiling at him and glancing sympathetically at John before sighing. "Some Christmas, huh?"

"What do you mean?" Alan asked.

"There's no way John is gonna feel up to leaving this room just yet, Scott physically can't leave because of his leg and I'm not sure I could either if I'm honest, so I think we're stuck here."

Alan looked between them all and was about to say something when John suddenly uncurled from his tight foetal position and stumbled across the room to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him in his haste. "Oh dear. I was gonna suggest maybe we could bring Christmas in here instead."

Virgil smiled at him. "Alan, you and Gordon need to go and enjoy yourselves. It's Christmas Day, you've got gifts to open."

"Yeah and you might be needed for a call seeing as none of us can go out," Scott pointed out. "Go have fun."

Alan looked at Gordon and saw the agreement in his eyes. He looked back. "Won't be fun without you guys. Even when you were sick that year, you were still with us."

"If I remember rightly I fell asleep at the dinner table," Scott countered.

"True, but you were there," Gordon said. "Let us bring Christmas in here. Presents, food, all of it."

"Maybe don't bring the food in here until later on when John's not feeling quite so sensitive," Virgil suggested.

They looked up as the door to the bathroom opened and John staggered back out, going to his bed and collapsing back onto it, curling up again.

Scott watched him then returned his gaze to the youngest two. "Yeah. Much later."

Alan nodded, smiling sympathetically. "Alright. Come on, Gords, let's go get the presents." He grabbed his arm, dragging him out and together they retrieved all the gifts from beneath the tree.

Despite the severity of Scott and Virgil's injuries and how very unwell John felt, Christmas was just as fun for the Tracys as it always was that year. It was just celebrated in a different location.


End file.
